


Old Habits Are Hard To Break

by protectchatnoir



Series: Cold, Alone [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, I don't even know anymore rip, This Is Sad, semi reveal? idk??, set four years after canon, why did i even write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectchatnoir/pseuds/protectchatnoir
Summary: "I'm sorry," he choked. "She's dead."





	Old Habits Are Hard To Break

**Author's Note:**

> please dont kill me djfdjhdhd
> 
> Okay so obviously Major Character Death™  
> Not, like, during the story- the death happened a while ago  
> But if you read the first sentence you'll probably figure that out lmao
> 
> This is pretty depressing so if you're looking for fluff this probably isn't #1 on your list  
> Enjoy anyways! :D (<\-- I feel like this smiley is.. um.... very out of place regarding the content of this fic hahaha)

It had been exactly four years. Four years since Marinette Dupain-Cheng died. 

 

She had only just turned fourteen. It was quite tragic, really. Marinette was a nice girl. She didn't deserve to die. It was exceedingly worrying when she went missing on the day of her fourteenth birthday; but everybody believed that, somehow, Marinette would come back.

  Especially Alya. She never gave up searching for her friend. She never lost hope. Alya never stopped searching for Ladybug, either. 

  It was difficult admitting to himself that he'd lost Marinette, but when Ladybug stopped showing up at akuma attacks, Adrien knew that there was a chance he may never see her again. And he was distraught. 

 

But even Alya had to admit defeat when they found Marinette's body a year later.

 

Ladybug's was never recovered.

 

And, one by one, Marinette's classmates moved on. She was gone. Perhaps Ladybug would come back, perhaps not- but eventually they stopped hoping. And Paris moved on. 

 

They could cope without Ladybug. 

 

And the people of Paris didn't exactly need Chat Noir now. Hawkmoth had no clue where Ladybug was; he would never be able to get her earrings. So he gave up. He stopped sending akumas.

And Chat felt himself slipping away as time went on; there were no supervillians, and thus no use for a superhero. He was nothing without Ladybug.

 

But Adrien didn't take the ring off. He used it to silently patrol the rooftops at night, stopping at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, rembering the evenings he spent visiting Marinette on her balcony. 

  He landed flawlessly, night after night, half expecting the dead girl to burst out of the trapdoor, surprising him, telling him that it was all a mistake, that she was okay, that he was okay, that it was okay. Even after her body was found, he kept visiting. Waiting a few minutes, just in case. Just in case it _was_ all a mistake. 

   But it wasn't. She was dead. Still, he kept visiting. You know what they say: old habits are hard to break. 

  And as Chat Noir became a half forgotten memory echoing the streets of Paris- as he stopped making public appearances and became another uncertain myth, just like Ladybug- Adrien found himself slipping away. 

 

Still, he kept visiting.

 

Landing flawlessly on the balcony. Waiting for Marinette to appear at the trapdoor. Sometimes crying, sometimes not. Always staring wistfully into the distance at the break of dawn, staining the inky sky pale blue and pink as the sun slipped its way out into the open.

 

And even after four years, he kept visiting. Old habits are hard to break, after all. Everbody else accepted the fact that Marinette was gone. That Ladybug and Chat Noir were gone.

 

But Adrien knew that Chat Noir wasn't gone. And he knew that there was a chance- even if it was a small one- that Ladybug was okay. Marinette? Well, that was another story. They found her body. She was gone for good. But Ladybug _had_ to be out there somewhere.

* * *

 

It had been exactly four years. Four years since Marinette Dupain-Cheng died, and Chat Noir found himself waiting here, at her house, for the daylight to infect the darkness of the night. Today was her- today _should have been_ her eighteenth birthday. Today was special; today was different. Today was even more heartbreaking than usual. 

 

  And normally, Chat wouldn't have even thought about going inside; but today was different. Today, it was raining. Tomorrow Sabine and Tom moved out of the bakery. 

 

They said it was too difficult to stay in the place where she'd grown up. Four years had been too difficult. It was time to move on. It was time to move away. And tomorrow they moved to the other side of the city.

 

Today was different. Today, it was raining. And so Chat Noir found himself dropping through the trapdoor into her bedroom. 

  He'd hadn't been in the room many times, but enough to know that it was so different to how it'd been four years ago. There were a few boxes on the floor, but other than that it wasn't furnished at all; the walls had been stripped of wallpaper, and the whole room looked bare and _wrong_.

   Chat moved over to the boxes to examine them. Mostly they were filled with clothes, and other belongings of Marinette's. They were all labelled 'to throw out'. 

 

It was more than a little heartbreaking, if he was honest, to see all her things being carelessly thrown away. He reached into the nearest box and rifled through it. There were photos of their classmates, pictures of him from multiple photo shoots, a red pendant which somewhat resembled half of a yin yang friendship necklace- and a box.

 

Chat recognised it immediately, but he wasn't sure where he'd seen it before at first. And then... memories starting coming back to him, memories from _years_ ago, before he'd even met-

 

No. It couldn't be. 

 

It couldn't possibly be-

 

With trembling fingers, he opened the box. A flash of pink light and there was something in front of him, talking to him-

 

"Marinette!" it exclaimed. "Are you oka- _Chat Noir?_ What are you doing here? You look so different- how much time has passed?"

 

That... that was a kwami. A ladybug kwami. _Ladybug's_ kwami. Oh. _Oh_.

It was her. It was _her_ , it was Marinette, it was her all along.

Marinette was Ladybug. Marinette was _dead_. 

 

Ladybug was dead. 

 

"Where's Marinette?" the kwami asked, urgency and dread replacing her confusion.

 

"I'm sorry," he choked. "She's dead."

 

**Author's Note:**

> :D 
> 
> T_T idk what to say this was a kinda spur of the moment impulse fic so idk
> 
> Aaaaaanyway I hope you enjoyed it despite the kinda dark depressing approach 
> 
> hehehe find me on tumboblr!! @protectchatnoir


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